


Locked Out of Heaven

by Venchaser



Series: Stiles's Totally Average Student Life [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Car Sex, Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Love Triangle, M/M, Sassy friends, Smut, camping trip, possible illness, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venchaser/pseuds/Venchaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A camping trip would take his mind off of Jackson, and Derek, right?<br/>Stiles doesn't really get a break.</p><p>Or, </p><p>The One Where they Hook Up In The Back of The Car.</p><p>Part 5 of Stiles's Totally Average Student Life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked Out of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long wait! I've been busy with university, and I fear the next installment will take even longer. I wanted to adjust a lot of things in this chapter, but I didn't have the time, so there might be some changes (minor and major).  
> Unbeta'd

‘Stiles,’ Lydia rebuked him for wallowing in self-pity. ‘It’s been two weeks since the entire Jackson debacle. Don’t you think it’s time for you to go out and have some fun?’ She moved expertly through his room, through the heaps of chocolate wrappers and DVD boxes to open the window.

The first days after Stiles had taken some distance from Jackson, everything seemed to be okay. But on the fifth day, after a rather intensive class on how to interpret _Ulysses_ , Stiles broke down and crashed, literally. After the lecture, he and Lydia were having a small debate on how much that fat book was actually a torture device when Stiles, engrossed in forming his argument, crashed into a lamp post. The smack on his head must have loosened some veiled emotions, because Stiles had been depressed ever since. The collision must have loosened all Jackson-related memories, because that was all he could think of. He had even missed some of his classes, highly uncharacteristic of him. If they skipped, they all skipped together. Basic etiquette. Two weeks further, and here we are now, with no improvement of Stiles’s mental state.

 Allison said that Stiles had to be given some space. Erica suggested he should hook up with someone random to get Jackson out of his system. Scott, Isaac and Lydia, however, feared that with Stiles stubbornness, the processing of this semi-breakup could take months. After Derek, Stiles went through a similar process. And they weren’t going to have any of that again. So they had planned a little get-away: a mini camping trip; go to the cabin in the Ardennes owned by Scott’s family. It also gave them a great excuse to get hammered for an entire weekend. Drunk students in the woods, what could go wrong?

‘Come out.’ She repeated.

‘I’m already out. Unlike Jackson.’

‘Don’t get smart with me. Out of the bed, c’mon.’

‘Do I have to? I don’t want to.’ Stiles whined in reply, pulling the sheets over his head. Meanwhile, underneath the piles of trash, filthy clothes and snot-filled tissues, Blue Merle’s _Every Ship Must Sail Away_ was on repeat, and on the small flat screen in the corner the credits of _Love Actually_ were rolling, again.

‘I swear to God, Stiles. If I have to hear that song one more time, I will put you on a ship myself and I will sink it. I. Will. Sink. It. Like the Titanic. And I will see you go down with a smile on my face. A _big_ smile. Turn that sh-‘

‘Alright!’ Stiles crawled grudgingly out of his bed, wearing only a pair of boxers dating from who knows when. Lydia’s face scrunched together as some questionable fumes escaped from underneath the rumpled sheets.

‘You pig. Go shower. I’ll clean up. We’re going somewhere. I’ll pack your stuff.’ She threw him some fresh clothes and a towel.

‘Fine.’ Stiles trod off slowly, his limbs not used to the sudden physical effort he had to produce.

There was no risk of running into Jackson, his room had been suspiciously silent ever since their little split. No awkward bump-ins at the showers or such. No sign of him anywhere, not even at the university’s small campus. But they could still hear each other. Sometimes, Stiles heard the shuffling of Jackson’s feet, or his voice when he cursed – something Jackson did often lately. Stiles was grateful for this, knowing that Jackson was still there, even though they weren’t speaking to each other.

A hot stream of water cascaded down his body; the sound of gushing, pouring calmed his mind; the warm water soothed his stiff muscles. Steam hid the mirrors in its fluffy, humid cloud. Stiles, not feeling the need to be confronted with his, probably, deplorable appearances – unshaven face, unbrushed teeth, dark circles and whatnot – decided to leave the dampened mirrors alone, relying only on his sense of simple touch to make him somewhat presentable again.

Back in his room, a tornado of cleaning magic had been summoned, or at least, that is how it seemed. In the short twenty minute span he had been gone, Lydia had transformed his room from post-apocalyptic garbage island to a model student room, one you would find in advertisements. It was really impressive what she could accomplish is such a short time with so little.

‘Was my floor always this colour?’ Stiles asked. Lydia could only reply with an unbelieving look. She blew a loose strain of hair out of her face.

‘You owe me big time, Stilinksi. I cracked a nail, and I even saw and smelled stuff I cannot even process.’

‘Ah, so you’ve met Charlie?’

Lydia shuddered, still upset from her meeting with ‘Charlie’, a mutant dust bunny.

Stiles, still struck with a sense of cleaning-awe, and Lydia, subtly wiping off the little bit of sweat from her face, stood still for a moment when the familiar honking of Scott’s car was heard. That was Lydia’s cue to snatch Stiles’s suitcase and the owner of said suitcase and flee to the car to go to the rugged nature of the Ardennes, away from all the drama, ready to have a smashing weekend.

In the car, Stiles was greeted by the usual gang: Isaac, in the front seat next to Scott, who sat at the wheel, Allison and Erica sat in the back. Stiles, together with Lydia, squeezed in the back. Even though the four students didn’t occupy a lot of space separately, it was a tight fit when they finally were shoved together, hips smashed against each other. Suitcases protruded from the trunk. When Scott, a sly grin playfully on his lips, asked if everyone was comfortable, his question was shot back immediately with a grumpy, collective ‘No!’.

‘Ha, sucks for you guys. This is how it’s gonna be for the next four hours.’

They hadn’t been on the road for five minutes when Allison’s face turned scarlet.

‘Stiles, I swear, are you actually caressing my ass?!’ Allison cried out indignantly.

‘Wha-? Allison, no! As much as I appreciate your beauty, I would never touch that booty!’

‘Then who…?’

‘My bad, Snow White.’ Erica said, her eyes glinting dangerously. ‘But it’s such a nice butt, and since we are all so cosy here in the back, why not take advantage of it? Speaking of which, Stiles, you have such a soft butt, better lay off all that chocolate!’

‘Hey,’ now it was Stiles’s turn to be offended. ‘My butt is perfect. And I will never lay off stuff that is bad for me. Never!’

‘Ignore her,’ Lydia said. ‘She’s a bit sensitive, her latest man-meat dumped her before she could wiggle her way in his pants.’

‘Oh please, I could have wiggled my way in there if I wanted to, but a crying guy really kills my lady-boner.’ Stiles’s face contorted, Lydia rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples and Allison looked genuinely offended, yet intrigued at the same time. 

The discussion deteriorated even further when Erica began commenting on Allison’s lack of a female-boner. The discussion was heated, to say the least, even Lydia joined the fray eventually.

And when all that was happening in the back, in the front, Isaac was wondering why he even had befriended these quirky and misfit people. Scott laid his right hand on Isaac’s knee, rubbing it gently, and gave him a small smile, as if it were to say ‘those idiots in the back are still our loveable idiots’. And that they were.

‘Whatever,’ concluded Erica. ‘I still got my vitamin D in the end.’

‘Please don’t say it.’ Isaac silently prayed.

‘Vitamin Dick!’ sang the four little misfits from the back. Although Isaac tried to style himself as the mature one in the group, he still burst in a fit of giggles.

That’s the simple beauty of being with friends, no matter how deep you’re stuck in sadness, they can easily lift you from it. Stiles’s cheeks were already sore from laughing. It had been a while. He felt bad for Jackson, could Jackson even smile for real with his friends? Those he was afraid of. Derek also slipped in Stiles’s thoughts. Seeing Derek being all fatherly with Boyd did strike an empathic snare within him, and all those fond memories of his time with Derek played on the movie screen of his mind. I want you to love me. I, singular. You, singular. Love. If only everything was as simple as that.

*

‘Scott,’ Erica began, her voice several pitches higher. ‘When was the last time your family was here? This place looks like a dump! I’ve seen public restrooms, both male and female, for those who were wondering, cleaner than this!’

‘You’re always free to camp outside, with the bears.’ Scott retorted as he carried his and Isaac’s bags towards to porch.

‘I thought there weren’t any bears in the Ardennes?’ Stiles whispered to Lydia, both struggling with their own luggage.

‘There aren’t.’ She puffed. Currently, she was regretting wearing high-heels, the ground was soggy from a recent shower. The smell of pine trees hung in the air, a cold mist covered the forest and hills in a shroud of white.

From the outside, the cabin was covered in ivy and moss. Even though the cabin had probably seen better years, it still looked sturdy and safe.

‘Just to be clear, if we get attacked by a psychopathic axe-wielder, satanic tribe or mutant bears,’ Stiles said.

‘There aren’t any bears,’ interjected Allison and Lydia.

‘Or mutant bears,’ Stiles raised his voice. ‘It’s every man, or woman, for themselves. I could be rewatching _Love Actually_ or _The Notebook_ ,’

‘You don’t even like _The Notebook_.’ This time it was Scott’s turn to interject.

‘Could we please let Stiles finish?! Okay? So, I could be binging on whatever I want if I weren’t being dragged off in the woods. That being said, I hope we still live by the end of the weekend. Plus if anyone’s dying it’s Erica.’

‘Why the hell would I die?’ Erica asked, hands planted on her hips.

‘Ah, uuhm, well.’

‘Spill it, Stilinksi.’

‘The slutty blonde girl always dies first,’ Lydia said.

‘Yeah, but she’s always about to get it on with someone before she dies. I ain’t sleeping with no one here.’ Erica was more bothered with the fact she wasn’t going to get any this weekend than by the fact she was being identified with slutty girl number one in every generic horror movie ever produced.

‘Praise the Satanic overlords!’ Isaac jokingly exclaimed. ‘Now, are you guys going to stand there, discussing what’s going to kill us, or are you helping with the luggage and food?’

They trod heavily and slowly, the weight of the baggage pulling them down in the muddy sludge.

‘How much do we even need? We’re going to be here for only two days!’ Allison whined.

‘Food and drinks for six, blankets for everyone, soap, wash cloths, DVDs,’ Isaac and Scott summarized together.

‘I swear,’ muttered Stiles to Allison, who was trying to wipe some mud of her shoes. ‘If those aren’t married by the end of this academic year, I’m going celibate for the rest of my live.’ She nodded in agreement.

The cabin was spacious, a bit dusty, but it would do just fine for the weekend. A big living room, musty couches included, an old DVD player and TV set. There were five small bedrooms and two showers. Isaac and Scott bunked together, the rest got their own room.

‘No humping you two. Or I will join you!’ cried Erica at Scott and Isaac, who were getting a bit frisky, before disappearing in her bedroom with her bags.

‘So,’ Stiles asked no one in particular. ‘Who wants to go for a hike?’

The sound of four doors being closed was the reply.

‘Okay then. I’m off, just a little stroll.’ He said, and no one answered. ‘If I get eaten by wolves, it’s your fault.’ Silence.

*

Stiles sucked in the clear air, the slightly mossy smell, pure nature, with a deep breath until his chest felt like it was about to explode, and then released the built up air in one steady stream. His mind was a blank page for that one sweet moment. Watery rays of sunlight broke through the delicate fog, and Stiles followed that path of light, hidden, only his feet knew where to go. The soft thuds of his soles connecting with the earth, the crunching of the fallen leaves, the soft singing of the birds and the gentle breeze all came together harmoniously. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the woods, not sure where he exactly was. He, though, did have a vague idea how he got here. He slowly walked to a tree trunk, covered with a soft layer of green. And there, all alone, he imagined Derek standing in front of him.

‘Hey Derek.’

‘Stiles.’

‘I miss you. I think I failed to mention that, every time I saw you.’

‘You don’t really show it, that you miss me, you know.’

‘I know.’

‘No, you don’t. You don’t see half of what’s around you, or who.’

‘I’m confused, Derek.’

‘What else is new? What’s on your mind?’

‘You. And Jackson. Family.’

Derek was quiet then. Stiles didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t know how the story would continue, how it would end.

‘Must be hard.’ Derek replied sardonically.  Stiles didn’t speak for a while, he didn’t know how the conversation would continue and neither did the figment that was Derek, who was after all nothing but a bleak mirror image of the real thing.

‘Did you love me?’ Stiles asked, after the long silence.

‘Perhaps. Did you love me?’

‘I did. I do.’ That last utterance escaped his lips before he even knew what he had said, and what it actually meant.

‘Yet, you don’t ask the question that needs to be asked.’ Derek said, and he faded in the twilight.

It was then that Stiles realized it was growing darker, the sun, which was visible even through the curtain of mist, was going down behind hills. His pace was quicker, more hurried than before. He had to make it back to the cabin before night really came. Otherwise, he’d be in real trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, he stumbled upon a stone road, he vaguely recalled walking along it, but the nearing darkness seemed to distort the surroundings. Everything seemed larger, more intimidating, as if it held a secret that you’d never figure out. Stiles glanced back, two bright orbs floated on the twilit road; was he hallucinating? Soon, a car materialized, the two orbs beings just its headlights. Stiles moved to the side, leaving more than enough room for the vehicle to pass, but the car slowed down regardless.

‘Is this the start of my horror movie death?’ Stiles muttered before he turned towards the tinted windows, his heart started to race.

The window rolled down, ‘My dad always told me not to go with strangers.’ Stiles said, though surprise laced his voice.

‘Good thing I’m not a stranger,’ and there was, who else, Derek. ‘Stiles, what the hell are you doing out alone?’  Shit.

‘Why do I seem to run into you at the most impossible times and places? Can’t a guy enjoy a nice stroll in the woods alone?’ Stiles asked, his voice rose an octave. It only did that when he got defensive, or had something to hide, and Derek, who knew Stiles inside out, knew his presence bothered him. ‘What are you even doing here?’

‘I can ask the same thing? I keep running into you. Two-way street, buddy. Get in, it’s getting too dark.’

‘I can manage perfectly,’ Stiles scoffed. ‘You didn’t answer my question. What brings you here?’

‘Scott called me, there’s something wrong with the generator. And trust me, I’d rather be at home alone with a nice book.’

‘I can imagine,’ Stiles muttered, a shrill wind rose, and he pulled the zipper of his coat a bit higher, protecting himself against the coming cold.

‘Get in.’ It wasn’t an offer, but a command. Stiles obliged, but slammed the door shut with a bit more force, a bit harder than required.

Instead of driving on, Derek parked the car on the side, and killed the engine.

‘What are you doing?’ Stiles asked distrustfully.

‘We’re going to talk, whether you want or not. The doors are locked, by the way. No running away this time.’

‘Fine, ask away.’

‘What’s your deal with this Jackson guy?’

‘We are… I don’t know. Jackson is a mess to be honest. He is still trying to figure himself out. He’s nice, you know, really nice, but he’s just scared and afraid,’

‘He didn’t seem so scared when he stuck his tongue down a random girl’s throat. Every time he came to Triskele, by the way,’ Derek huffed, and Stiles scolded him for that.

‘We’ve all been there, that little period of denying who you are, so don’t give me an attitude, Derek. Some people have difficulty with coming out. His friends are horrible, all the frat boy-douchebags hybrids. He’s afraid he’ll lose his friends and get ostracized. He’s just confused.’

‘Fine. Topic switch, then, what about us?’

‘There is no more us, Derek.’ Those words hurt himself more than Stiles anticipated, maybe he didn’t mean it? ‘We had a good go, the sex was amazing, but that was it. We didn’t do the couple-y stuff or anything. I wanted that.’

‘Stiles, you know as well as I do I suck at that kind of stuff. But you never communicated what you wanted.  I never heard a single complaint and then one day you suddenly break it off.’

 ‘What? You broke it off! Did I really…?’

‘Stiles, face it, we both suck at this.’

‘But, with Jackson, I –‘

‘I’m going out on a limb here and guess that Jackson takes all the decisions, does everything, says everything?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Stiles, and I don’t want to offend you, but you project all these fantasies on a relationship and hope that relationship will be just like that. You’re too passive, and expect everything to just magically appear in front of you. In a relationship, you’ve got to work. Jackson did all the work for you.’

‘I, I don’t know what to say.’

‘Are you happier being with Jackson?’

‘Derek, you can’t just expect to drop that question on me.’ Stiles said, baffled.

‘I’m doing it anyway. Now, spit it out,’ he kept pressing for an answer relentlessly, else the answer would never come. Tough love.

‘No!’ cried Stiles. ‘I’m not happier. I miss you. But I just don’t _know_.’

Derek hand grazed his hand, a firm squeeze, he had hoped for these words. ‘I want to make it work with you. But we both need to communicate more then. Stiles, I care deeply for you, but I need for you to meet me in the middle too. These last months without you were the loneliest in my life, and I want that void filled.’

Not thinking clearly, Stiles, emotions high, jumped seats, saddled himself on Derek’s laps, firmly clasped his hands on Derek face, his palms rubbed against the stubbly bear, and before Derek could ask what he was doing, he kissed him fiercely. That familiar warmth of Derek on his lips, it felt like home, it was good.

‘Stiles, you make me feel like I’ve been locked out of heaven for too long.’  Stiles went in for another kiss, at the same time a smile played on his lips. A smiling kiss.

‘You remembered.’

‘Of course I remember. It’s the song that played on the radio the morning after the blizzard. You said it was one of your favourite songs. Which, might I add, are a lot. And I remembered every single title and every verse, every note. Just for you.’

They crawled to the backseat, Stiles laid on his back, head supported against the car door. Derek’s one hand roamed his stomach under his shirt while planting little kisses and love bites on his neck, indulging himself. The other hand had already unzipped the zip and was currently rubbing the growing, throbbing bulge in Stiles’s boxers, the little wet circle had already formed at the tip.

‘Hmm, let me,’ Stiles moaned. ‘Switch places.’

Derek moved backwards, mirroring Stiles’s previous pose. Stiles loosened the buttons of his shirt and left a warm, wet trail on his skin, moving steadily downwards. Arriving at the pants, he quickly undid the zipper, and grabbed Derek’s hard cock, pre-come already glistening at the tip. Stiles lick the length before taking in the tip, swirling his tongue around the throbbing organ. Bopping his head up and down, he picked up the pace, each time accompanied by a low grunt of arousal coming from Derek. His hand slid down his Derek’s thigh and loins. Going down one last time, Stiles took the entire member, gagging lightly, a loud cry escaped from Derek.

‘Fuck, Stiles. Stop, else I’m gonna come already. It’s my turn now,’ his eyes were glazed over with a lust he hadn’t felt in a long time. A hunger grow in his chest for that salty and sweet taste of Stiles’s skin.

Derek pushed Stiles back and swiftly discarded his jacket and t-shirt, and pulled down Stiles’s pants, revealing his tight boxers. Derek began biting Stiles’s skin playfully, teasing the pink nipples thoroughly, his tongue swirling around them, tasting Stiles’s irresistible flavour. Derek’s fingers were like fire on his skin. His hand descended in the boxers, fingers wrapping skilfully around Stiles’s dick, and started massaging. Stiles writhed in pleasure, his breath superficial and fast. Derek came back up and kissed Stiles deeply, their tongues, moist muscles, meeting, licking and clashing, sucking. It was rough and messy. Derek’s hand now moved even further downward, his finger playing at Stiles’s entrance, teasing the erogenous zone, entering his core. Their bodies rolled together sensually. Stiles felt his body fall apart, and be completed again by Derek, time after time, touch after touch.

‘Are you ready for me?’

‘Wait, do you have a…’

‘Shit, I don’t.’

‘Doesn’t matter, we can finish like this.’ He said between kisses. ‘I’m close either way. Are you?’

‘Just a bit more.’

Their lips met once again, their tongues teasing each other endlessly, a warm, tickling feeling settled in their chest, pleasure and ecstasy ran through their veins as they reached the edge. Both their hands, wrapped around each other’s throbbing cock, jerking each other off, bodies rocking simultaneously, moaning louder and louder, spouting confessions of lust and love, and then reached the peak, searing delight, white, and came. Both ejaculated violently, their respective orgasm washed over them like a wave of the ocean, come splashing all over Stiles. Derek collapsed on him, heaving heavily, smearing the come all over each other.

‘So sticky.’ Huffed Stiles, little beads of sweat rolling down his body. Derek didn’t reply, but answered with a simple kiss that said more than enough.

*

‘You two smell like sex. Hell, you even look like sex. Am I the only one not getting _anything_ here?’ Erica cried out, clearly irritated.

‘What has your panties all in a twist?’ Stiles asked her, head beet-red because of the accusation, shifting his weight constantly from one foot to the other as Derek awkwardly moved away, followed by Scott, who couldn’t look either Siles or Derek straight in the eyes, to check the generator.

‘Lydia and Allison aren’t getting anything either, you know.’ Stiles pointed out.

‘I wouldn’t be to sure about that.’

Stiles thought this to be highly unlikely, Erica did tend to dramatize quite a lot, but he would nevertheless keep an eye out to hidden signals between Lydia and Allison.

*

‘Derek,’ asked Scott when they stood before the generator, assessing any possible damage or troubleshooting. ‘Are you and Stiles… together again? You obviously had some time alone in that car, and by the looks of both of you, I needn’t guess what happened.’

‘I’m not really sure, but I want to try, little brother. I do like Stiles a lot.’

‘Just make sure neither of you get hurt. I hate it when I see both of you sad or angry, or any negative emotion for that matter. Luckily, for me, you hardly show any emotion,’ joked Scott.

‘Give me a hand with this?’ Derek motioned at some foreign part, a panel, probably, of the generator. The generator clearly had seen better days, even though it stood in a small shed, screws and bolts were rusty, and vegetation grew all around the machine’s base through the cracks of the panelled floor. ‘What are you going to do about Jackson?’

‘Wait it out,’ Derek said as he tinkered with some wiring. ‘But Stiles told me what happened after the theme park incident. I just don’t like him, you know? Stiles told me the circumstances, but still, if I loved someone, I wouldn’t care what other people think of me, as long as I can be with that special someone.’

‘Even if that –‘ Scott couldn’t finish his sentence, because he was drowned out by the noise of the now working generator.

‘Thank me later, let’s go back.’

*

Derek didn’t stay for dinner. He left soon after fixing the generator, but not before he secretly stole another kiss from Stiles, far away from any prying eyes – mainly Erica.

‘See you soon?’ Derek asked hopefully.

‘Of course,’ confirmed Stiles, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

‘What’s wrong?’

Stiles sighed, it had to be said sooner or later, better now then. ‘It’s Jackson. I feel bad about him.’

Knowing Stiles couldn’t let the other guy go so easily, Derek exhaled noisily, mustering all his patience not to bash Jackson’s name.

‘You know what? Talk to him first, see what happens. But know I’ll be waiting for you. Always. Call if something happens.’  Another quick, fleeting peck on the lips, and Derek started to car and drove off into the night.

*

‘Sure, Isaac. If I recall, you were the one screaming like a little girl “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” Oh, that was brilliant!’ Stiles said laughingly. They had just come back from their little trip, and everyone was happy but tired. Except Isaac. He was still grumpy his friend had pulled a prank on him. Scott and Allison had dressed up like werewolves, went outside and stood in front of the window of Isaac and Scott’s room. They just stood there, when they noticed Isaac was asleep, they tapped ever so slightly with their fake, plastic claws on the glass. The result was hilarious. Isaac, however, disagreed.

‘What if I had a heart attack?’ he grumpily muttered.

Ascending the stair, the joyous bunch heard a choking noise mixed with a heavy staccato sobbing. Stiles picked up the pace and found Jackson, crumbled and broken, an empty bottle of whisky next to him, wallowing hysterically. When Jackson looked up, his red, puffy eyes finding Stiles in front of him, he crept towards Stiles pathetically.

‘Stiles,’ he cried. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ Stiles was slightly panicking, what had happened? ‘Hey, Jackson, calm down. What happened? Are you hurt?’

The rest also had arrived at the disturbing scene: Jackson, clasping on Stiles for his dear life, crying and Stiles, utterly confused, paralyzed with shock. They kept their distance, as they felt they weren’t supposed to be here, they were intruders

‘Jackson, breathe!’ Stiles commanded as he looked back to his friends, who stood there awkwardly, also uncertain, not sure what to do. Allison made a motion, asking if they should leave. Stiles furiously shook his head. ‘Just stay there’, he motioned.

‘Jackson, I can’t help you if you don’t say anything.’

‘I’m so sorry, Stiles. I missed you,’ he said through his sobs. ‘When I knocked on your door yesterday, and you weren’t there, I got angry. I tried to call you, but you never answered. I got even angrier. I felt so alone. And then I got drunk, and Danny took me to this shady gay club, and, and…’ The crying got out of control again, nearing the edge of hyperventilation. Stiles tried to calm Jackson down, unsuccessfully.

‘Jackson, what happened?’

‘I met this other guy, he was nice. He took me back to his place, and I was drunk. So very drunk. And we had sex. I’m so fucked.’

‘Sssssh, it’s okay. We all do dumb things when we’re drunk. It’s okay.’ Stiles stroked Jackson’s hair, his fingers combing through the short, sandy locks.

‘No, you don’t understand,’ Jackson howled. ‘I had _unprotected_ sex. Unprotected. I don’t remember anything else, just the sex, that dumb mistake. It hurt, but I didn’t care then. That guy, he said he didn’t believe in condoms. I didn’t care. He just… in me… what if? Oh, I’m so stupid.’

A cold shiver ran down Stiles’s spine. What Jackson was implicating…

There on the hard ground, sat Stiles, holding Jackson’s head protectively against his chest, letting the rhythm of his heart calm Jackson down. The others, pity in their eyes, dropped their bags and slowly descended the stairs again, giving Stiles and Jackson some time alone. Stiles’s father always warned him about unprotected sex, and made him promise he would never have sex without any protection, even if Stiles loved that person, and trusted that person. You never know, he always said. Stiles wondered if it was Jackson’s own conflicted state, his uncertainties and doubts, that led him to do something like this, or if it was some kind of inherent self-destructive nature. Stiles understood it. Sometimes, pain is the only thing that can keep you on your feet. It is only afterwards you realize there might have been other paths that could have been taken, paths that didn’t leave you raw and bruised and hurt in the end. But that’s not how it works, does it?

‘It’s going to be alright.’ Stiles hushed, but he couldn’t hide his own sense of dread that made his voice tremble ever so slightly.

‘It’s going to be alright.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love kudos, comments and constructive feedback! :)
> 
> Love as always,  
> V.

**Author's Note:**

> I love kudos, comments and constructive feedback! :)
> 
> Love,  
> V.


End file.
